The Way We Almost Weren't
by GreenEyesGreySkies
Summary: What would have happened if Harry hadn't Sectumsempra'd Draco in the famous bathroom scene? 6th year AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello again guys! I guess you could say the Sectumsemptra scene in HBP loosely inspired this. I say loosely because it doesn't follow the exact events… but it is going to be set in 6th year! Hey, this is my fanfic okay? :) Also in case anybody was wondering, I will be posting an epilogue for The Joys of Taking Marriage Sex and Family sometime this weekend. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

_Oh for Merlin's sake_. Harry stared exasperatingly at the clock on the wall, silently willing it to go faster. He drummed on the tabletop with his fingertips. He watched a speck of dust float back and forth in the air next to Ron's shoulder. _How long is this bloody class?_ Harry used to love Defense Against the Dark Arts before Snape started teaching it. Now, it was just another opportunity for Snape to gleefully take away House Points from the Gryffindors, and for them to be constantly ridiculed by a bunch of Slytherins with whom they had the displeasure of sharing the class with.

Harry glared at the back of Snape's head. The evil git had already yelled at him three times for various and ridiculous reasons. The first time it was 'for not paying attention' and the second was 'for having an intelligence level inferior even to that of a rock'. Snape's most recent and favorite one to date was 'for being born, you annoying little twit' and was used about 2 minutes ago, when he had caught Harry attempting to slip Ron a note under the table. Harry rolled his eyes. If Snape was trying to convince people that he wasn't an evil bastard working for Voldemort, maybe he should try a bit harder to be a little less… _evil_.

Harry scowled as Snape awarded Slytherin yet another set of points for some snotty observation made by Malfoy. And of course, the nasty blonde git turned around and smirked haughtily at _Harry_, as if it were a personal triumph over him. And in Malfoy's case, he supposed that the prat truly believed it was. Harry threw a huge phony grin back and gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up. Snape thumped him in the back of the head for that and Malfoy sniggered. Harry scowled some more and began to watch the clock again with renewed misery.

When DADA was finally over Harry, Ron and Hermione headed back to the Gryffindor common room. "Merlin, Snape was a bastard today, eh?" Ron said to Harry sympathetically, "More to you than me though, he screamed at you seven times and me only five," the redhead observed.

Hermione lightly hit him on the shoulder. "Ronald! Language," she scolded halfheartedly, rubbing his arm where she'd just smacked him. "Besides, you two should be paying attention anyhow."

Harry shrugged and scoffed. "It's Snape. I'll never like him enough to do _that_."

Ron nodded in agreement. "And what about Malfoy today, huh? Merlin, he's such a prat! Did you see that wicked expression on his face when Snape called you 'a raging pillock'?"

Harry shot him a dirty look. "Yeah and thanks for the reminder, Ron."

Ron clapped him on the shoulder and grinned widely. "No problem. And don't worry about him, mate. Malfoy's not even worth the time."

Harry didn't say anything. Ever since the beginning of the year, Harry had suspected that Malfoy was up to something. And not just the usual somethings, like the "Potter Stinks" badges in fourth year or all the nasty attempts to get him into trouble. It was something else, something bigger. Harry had watched the Slytherin carefully for a couple weeks now and knew for sure that he was scheming, but just didn't know what it was yet. He'd watched Malfoy on the Marauder's Map everyday and observed him during classes and meals, hoping to catch a glimpse of the evil plan but the conniving boy just wouldn't reveal it. It drove Harry mad with curiosity. But every time he voiced his concerns to Ron or Hermione, they'd look at him with concern and tell him that he was getting a bit obsessive. That drove him even _more_ mad. So eventually, he stopped talking to them about Malfoy and just continued to survey the blonde quietly on his own.

Hermione gazed at him with a hint of worry. "Harry, you're not thinking about Malfoy again, are you? I've told you a million times that I don't think you have anything to be anxious about. Ron's right, he's not worth the time."

Harry nodded and agreed with her absently. "Yeah Mione, I know."

Ron lit up at Hermione's mention of him. "You admit that I'm right about something?" he asked slyly. Hermione blushed.

"Oh, shut up Ronald."

Harry and Ron were walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast when Harry spotted Malfoy dart down a nearby corridor. He narrowed his eyes. What was that devious Slytherin up to now? He motioned at Ron vaguely with his hands. "You go on, I've got to use the restroom," he said hastily, dashing away in the direction Malfoy had just gone before Ron could respond.

Harry saw a flash of blonde hair disappear into a rarely used restroom down the hall a little ways and cautiously entered it, slipping in the doorway to hear the splashing of water at the sinks. He peered around the corner and to his utter bewilderment, saw Malfoy doubled over the sink in tears. "Oh gods," Malfoy gasped pitifully, amidst heaving sobs. "What am I going to do?" Harry frowned at the desperate, terrified expression on the usually pointy and arrogant face of Draco Malfoy. What was going on? Did this have to do with the something that Harry suspected of him? He watched as Malfoy buried his face into his hands, snuffling loudly and suddenly felt a peculiar rush of sympathy for the boy. He stepped forward and his shoes made a tiny squelching noise on the wet floor.

Malfoy stopped crying immediately and looked up. "W-Who's there?" he asked, his shaky voice betraying his attempt to sound harsh. Harry stepped out of the shadows by the doorway and Malfoy gasped, pointing his wand at him threateningly.

"Malfoy—" he started, but a curse flew at his face and he ducked behind the wall again to avoid it. He clumsily took out his wand and jumped back out in a defensive stance. "Wait—"

Another hex soared towards him and he missed it narrowly before instinctively yelling, "Expelliarmus!" It missed Malfoy only by a few centimeters and then the blonde stood facing him, his wand pointed directly at Harry's chest and his gray eyes blazing with passion. Harry took a few cautious steps back. He was just realizing that maybe it was a bad idea to follow Draco Malfoy around after all.

Malfoy sneered at him. "Cru—"

Harry dove at him before he could finish the Unforgivable curse, knocking them both to the ground and pinning him there by sitting on top. He yanked the wand out of Malfoy's death grip and threw it aside.

"Stop it!" he yelled, and for good measure (and because he'd always wanted to do it), he slapped Malfoy hard across the face. Malfoy stared back at him in astonishment.

"Why'd you do that for?" he snarled, making futile attempts to wriggle out from underneath Harry.

Harry crossed his arms defiantly, refusing to let him budge. "Why'd _you_ attack me?" Malfoy said nothing and only glared at him. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Malfoy, just… stop. I know you're up to something awful. Stop it now before… _someone_ gets seriously hurt." Harry stared at him challengingly and saw a flicker of fear flash in Malfoy's eyes. But the fear morphed into fury in an instant. With sudden force, Malfoy shoved Harry off and he toppled over in complete surprise. Malfoy stood and picked up his wand that Harry had hastily cast aside and shoved it in his face menacingly.

"It's none of your fucking business, Potter. Go away."

Harry glared at him and stood up as well. "It _is_ my fucking business to keep people safe from Death Eaters like you, so no, I will not go away!"

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy faltered a bit. "I am not a Death Eater," he growled, a little less forcibly than before.

Harry let out a bitter, humorless laugh and spoke in the mocking tone he used only when he was fighting with Malfoy. "Oh yeah, you're just _training_ to be one, my bad."

Without warning, Malfoy dropped his wand and threw Harry back against the wall with his fists digging into Harry's shoulders. "I am _not _a Death Eater," he repeated slowly, warningly.

Harry glowered at him. "But your father is! He works for Voldemort and you'll be working for him too—"

Harry's back was slammed into the stone wall again, making him temporarily lose his breath. "You stay out of my family's business, or I'll—"

Harry wrenched an arm out from Malfoy's grasp and pushed at his chest fiercely. "Or you'll what? You're a _coward _Malfoy, you don't make your own choices and you're a worthless _coward_—"

Malfoy punched him so hard that Harry slid down the wall in pain, clutching tightly at his side. Oh gods, that fucking hurt. Harry squeezed his eyes shut in agony. Who knew that Malfoy could actually pack a pretty mean punch? He opened his eyes and was shocked to see Malfoy sitting on the floor too, his face in his hands again. His body trembled violently as he tried to suppress the tiny, wretched sobs.

Harry stared at him for a bit, but Malfoy didn't get up or move or say anything. It was sort of making him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to seeing Malfoy so completely overwhelmed, they usually just hexed each other and got it over with. This was new and bizarre territory for them. Harry didn't really know what else to do, so he scooted over towards Malfoy and gingerly touched his shoulder. "Hey, Malfoy? Malfoy."

The blonde looked up at him, his eyes puffy and cheeks tear-stained. "I may be a lot of wicked things, but I'm not worthless," he whispered, gazing down at his hands. "I'm not worthless," he repeated, as if trying not only to convince Harry but himself as well.

Harry felt infinitely guiltier than he ever had in his entire life, and he wasn't sure why. Malfoy was always such a prick to him and was always plotting against him. He'd been Harry's archrival for as long as he could remember and they fought practically every day— he'd never felt bad about it before. But seeing Malfoy huddled up on the floor, looking utterly afraid and vulnerable… well, it sort of broke his heart.

"I didn't mean it," he blurted out, and Malfoy looked back up at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You're not worthless," Harry went on, not quite sure why he was still talking. "You're brilliant at Potions and um…" _Oh gods, stop talking_. "Making people feel incompetent? And…" _For the love of Merlin, shut up now!_ "Yeah," he finished lamely, blushing at his stupid attempt to make Malfoy feel better. Why was he even doing this anyway? He should be rejoicing at seeing his enemy crumpled on the floor in emotional defeat. He should just leave and let Malfoy sit and cry here alone. But no, he would never do that to anybody, not even when it was Malfoy.

The other boy looked a bit amused now. "That's… nice, Potter. I think," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Harry wondered when it had become acceptable for him to sit on the ground in abandoned bathrooms consoling longtime adversaries. He had to admit it was more than a little strange, even for him. Harry glanced over at Malfoy, who was looking less and less haggard by the moment. He decided that it was time for him to head out. Harry got up and picked his wand up off of the floor and Malfoy mimicked his motions. They stood facing each other, not quite sure what to say about what had just happened. The situation was just immensely awkward.

Harry coughed. "Well… Uh, see you around, Malfoy," he mumbled, walking towards the door.

"You too." Malfoy replied, watching him go.

Harry was halfway out when he heard Malfoy call out again.

"Potter?"

He popped his head back in the door frame. "Yeah?"

Malfoy gave him a teeny smile. "Thanks."

Harry smiled back, pleasantly surprised at the uncharacteristic sincerity laced into Malfoy's voice. Then again, this whole encounter could be classified as "Uncharacteristic Malfoy" in Harry's book.

"You _do_ have choices, you know," he said softly, before closing the door and walking away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm switching off every chapter for POV. This is Draco's :)**

**Oh and credit to J.K. Rowling of course for characters because they are obviously not mine :( onwards!**

Chapter 2

Draco stared down at his plate.

And then up at the Gryffindor table.

Plate.

Gryffindor.

Plate.

Gryffindor.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, will you stop that infernal twitching?" Pansy snapped, turning to glare at him.

"Hm?" he replied absentmindedly. _Now where was he? Ah, yes. The Gryffindor table._

"I said, will you stop that—what are you looking at?" she followed his gaze. "Are you staring at _Potter_?"

Draco's eyes immediately snapped back to his plate. "No. Pass the biscuits, will you?" Pansy didn't answer him. She smiled mischievously. "Tell me what you did to him! Is something terrible going to happen? Oh, please tell me you used my Christmas gift from last year on him!"

Draco gave her a haughty look. "Stop it. No, I have not done anything and you know I used that on Weasley three months ago."

Pansy looked confused, but thankfully decided to drop it. Draco sighed with relief. That girl could drill him forever, and he really didn't have the patience or time for that right now. He chanced another peek at the Gryffindor table. What did Potter mean when he said that Draco had choices? For what? And why was he acting so nice to him? He flushed at the memory of Potter awkwardly attempting to comfort him. Draco certainly hadn't meant to break down like that in front of anyone—especially Potter, of all the damn people—but the things he was assigned to do… he shuddered. _Why me?_

He stared down at his food miserably. When he'd agreed to join his father in the ranks of the Dark side, he hadn't signed up for this. Hell, he hadn't even wanted to agree to join, it was just the pressure of the situation. If he'd said no, father would probably have disowned him. Draco frowned. He really didn't have a choice if he wanted to keep being a Malfoy. But what was so great about being a Malfoy anyway? He tried to remember all the things that he used to believe made him superior: being a pureblood, having an enormous fortune, good looks, a solid future. It all came with the Malfoy package and he used to look forward to the day when he received all of those things. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"You okay, Draco?" Pansy asked, nudging his elbow gently. He snapped out of his reverie. "Yeah, I'm all right." He replied. _Really, she wasn't so bad when she wasn't nosing around in his business. Though, she did nose around quite a bit, so..._ "Where's Blaise? Haven't seen him around in a while," he mentioned casually, hoping to change the subject.

She rolled her eyes. "I reckon he's busy shagging the entire Slytherin House right now, excluding us. See how many people aren't here?" she motioned around the table, which was indeed looking quite sparse tonight.

"I thought he was going around with Nott," Draco commented, not really caring what Blaise was doing anyway.

"Oh, he was," Pansy lowered her voice, clearly enjoying having someone to listen to her gossip. "But Nott refused to put out for him the first night. Can you imagine? The first night? Damn Blaise."

Draco bit his lip. "Damn Blaise," he agreed softly, glancing up at the Head table and feeling a twinge of guilt in his chest.

Pansy noticed the shift in his demeanor and sighed. "Is this about that assignment you were given last summer?"

He looked back at her sharply. "What? How do you know that, I haven't told anyone!"

Pansy shook her head sympathetically. "My father informed me quite gleefully. Well, he _was_ gleeful before I skipped out on him."

Draco gaped at her. "You're not going to…?"

She made a noise of annoyance. "Hell, no. You should've seen the look on my father's face when I informed him just where You-Know-Who could shove his assignment for me. I mean really. Besides, have you seen their robes? They are far from fashionable and the color does absolutely _nothing_ for my skin tone."

Draco raised his eyebrows. Trust Pansy to not want to join because of the uniforms. But she_ did_ have a point. Black was so out this season. He sighed and poked at his plate. "I didn't know that you switched sides," he mumbled.

Pansy gazed at him with concern. "I don't understand why you do this to yourself. The man's a lunatic, Draco. We both know that, yet you still follow him as if you don't. Even I can see that you don't want this."

Draco turned away her. "I don't see any other way. I'll be disowned." She shook her head. "So be disowned. Trust me, it's worth it. I'm so much happier this way. I don't have to do things that I don't want to anymore… I'm my own person."

Draco snorted lightly. "You sound like a bloody Gryffindor." Pansy smiled. "They aren't that bad, Draco. In fact, I've even made acquaintance with a few of them."

Draco stared at her in astonishment. "And where have I been this whole time? It's like I don't even know you!" Pansy rolled her eyes. "You're too busy in Draco world. But feel free to join the rest of us when you have the time."

The following Saturday, Draco headed down to the library from the Room of Requirement, stomping in frustration. How was he supposed to complete his mission if he couldn't get the bloody cabinets to work properly for him? Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a treacherous feeling of relief. _Maybe if he couldn't get the cabinet to work, they would assign the job to somebody more capable._ Draco laughed bitterly to himself. _Yeah, and maybe the Dark Lord was really a unicorn in disguise._

Suddenly, he heard voices coming down the corridor near the library. "I thought that we could set up a picnic outside. I know this great tree with the perfect amount of shade." Potter's distinct voice echoed. Draco snorted_. Really?_ That was the worst line he'd ever heard. _A great tree. How special_._ I bet the Weaselette worships that tree now. _

"As long as you don't spill pumpkin juice on me again, you clumsy oaf," a pretty, familiar voice teased. Draco froze. _Pansy?_

Potter laughed. "I'm still sorry for that, by the way. But I've brought Butterbeer this time, so I can at least assure you that your robes are in no danger of getting pumpkin juice spilled on them."

"Knowing you Harry, you'll find a way."

Draco heard them coming closer. Feeling panicked for some reason, he darted behind a statue and watched as the pair walked by, still chatting amicably. Draco fumed silently. When Pansy said she had made Gryffindor acquaintances, he didn't think she meant _Harry freaking Potter_, the biggest damn Gryffindor in the history of the wizarding world. What the hell was she thinking, going around with him? A dreadful thought dawned on him suddenly and he gasped with growing horror. Oh gods, was she _seeing_ him_? _Draco shook his head. No way. She was way too smart for that. Wasn't she?

He peeped out the window and searched the grounds until he saw the pair of them under that damn tree, laughing like it was nobody's business. He saw her flip her hair flirtatiously and put a hand on his. He fumed some more. Hold up. This crisis was a suddenly a lot more imperative than the whole "The Dark Lord wants me to kill the Headmaster" crisis. _Pansy and Potter. Merlin help me, I think I've just died and woken up in an alternate universe._ Draco couldn't figure out why this was bothering him so damn much. He stalked back to the common room and planted himself down on the couch in a huff. He would wait for her to come back from her little rendezvous of betrayal and question her then. He needed time to compose himself anyways.

About an hour later when Pansy pranced into the common room, Draco was no calmer than he was when he sat down. He stood up and glared at her accusingly. "Where have _you_ been?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Out."

Oh, she wanted to play it that way? Draco could play. He upgraded the usual glare to The Glare (normally reserved only for desperate times and Potter). "Where?"

She smirked at him. "Why do you care?"

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Tell me where you've been, young lady."

She threw her head back and laughed freely. "My Draco, you're like my father. You know, except you'd have to be crazy and abusive and all. But," she backed up a little as he snarled at her, "I think you might be getting there with the crazy."

He sighed and sat back down. Might as well just get to the point. "Are you seeing Potter?"

She stopped laughing, all playfulness gone. "Why would you think that?" she asked a bit too indifferently.

He went back to the accusing glare. "Because I _saw_ you."

She sighed and picked at the couch. "No, I'm not. We're just friends," Draco sighed in relief. "… Unfortunately," she added, looking sullen.

He glanced back at her sharply. "What?"

She really did look miserable. "I sort of fancy him, okay? Merlin."

Draco felt his heart sink for her. "Why? I thought you hated him." he wondered, genuinely curious.

She looked a bit more relaxed now that he wasn't glaring anymore. "I don't know, but I don't hate him. I guess it's that he's got that innocence. You know," she looked at him sheepishly, "he's just so good and genuinely... nice. I know it's not the type I usually go for but it's just that he's not like other boys... gods, I can't explain it."

Draco thought back to how Potter had helped him in the bathroom and felt a twinge of sadness. He understood what she was trying to say. "Do you really… I mean, do you really fancy him that much?" he asked quietly.

She stopped and thought for a minute. "I don't know, I think I could fancy him a lot more in time. Right now, of course, I just think he's really fetching. I mean, have you seen him? Well, you aren't gay so you don't—"

Draco looked down at his hands. "Actually I am, Pansy."

She stopped and stared at him. "What? You've never told me." He glanced back up at her. "I've only just realized this summer."

She stared at him a little more before shrugging and getting up. "Well, it's not really a surprise. All the signs were there."

He watched her suspiciously. "What signs?"

She giggled. "Everything, really. But mostly the hair." Draco reached up and touched his hair self-consciously. "What? My hair?"

Pansy smirked. "Yes, your hair. It's incredibly gay."

He glared at her. "Don't think you're off the hook, Parkinson."

She held her hands up in mock surrender. "All right, all right. But… don't tell anybody, okay?" He felt his heart clenching as he saw the sincerity in her eyes. She really did fancy him.

"I wouldn't want to tarnish the Slytherin reputation by doing so anyways," he replied, sniffing arrogantly at her.

She grinned brightly and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Draco," she said, before skipping off to the girls' dormitories. Draco sighed and leaned back on the couches. He didn't know exactly how he felt about all this. It was a mixture between anger and… something else. He just couldn't figure out what it was at the moment. It wasn't really that strange that Pansy fancied Potter, because there was a lot about the Boy Wonder that was… well, wonderful, even Draco could admit that. The really odd part was that Draco was angry that Potter was being so pleasant to her in the first place. It was irrational really, because Potter was nice to everyone (except for Draco, most of the time), but he felt that somehow, after that incident in the bathroom… that _he _should be the only one that Potter acted that way around. He sighed and kicked the floor dejectedly. It really shouldn't matter to him that Pansy fancied Potter, and that maybe Potter could fancy her back. The only thing that should annoy him was the fact that if they did hook up, he'd have to see a whole lot more of the git than he wanted to. Anyways, he should be focusing on the task at hand. He stared into space glumly. _Merlin, the world just hates me right now._

The next day, Draco headed out to the Quidditch pitch to practice on his own a little to try and get his mind off of Potter for a while. Quidditch always soothed him when he was all wound up about something and right now, he was seriously wound up. He looked up to observe the pitch and groaned. Well, shit. Of course the stupid prat had to be already using the field, it was just his luck. Draco took a few seconds to watch. _Damn, his arse looks good in those Quidditch pants. I mean, what? _He shook his head and looked away. He should go. Draco was not about to have another confrontation with the green-eyed boy if he could help it. He was about to turn around and go back inside when he heard Potter shout out his name. "Hey, Malfoy! Wait up!"

He groaned inwardly. _Why me?_ He crafted his signature sneer carefully on his face before he turned to look at Potter. "What is it, Potter, I haven't got all day."

Potter rolled his eyes, motioning at the broom in Draco's hand. "Clearly. I was just wondering if you wanted to, um, talk about things. Like what happened—"

Draco cut him off. "I never want to talk about that subject. Ever. And what is it with you and Slytherins nowadays? Are you trying to save us all or something?"

Potter blushed a little. "No, I just… I'm just tired of the House rivalry."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So you've decided to befriend the enemy. Nice one, Potter."

Potter blushed some more. Draco had to admit it was pretty cute look on him. "You could say that. I wasn't going to try to befriend _you, _since… well, you're you." Draco made a noise of agreement. He had a point there. "But when I saw you—"

"No," Draco put up a finger to Potter's lips, silencing him. "I said we shouldn't speak of that again." Potter nodded mutely. Draco suddenly realized that his finger was on Potter's mouth, and it was really quite a _nice _mouth.

_His lips are awfully soft. I wonder if he uses a certain kind of lip balm… He probably doesn't even do anything to them, that lucky sod. I've got to import a special brand from Spain, and he gets to frolic around with amazing lips like he's the king of—_ Draco shook his head. Wow, he was_ really_ gay. So this is the sort of thing that Pansy was talking about.

"Mmph, Maalfurgh?" Draco snapped back into reality and realized that Potter was trying to say something. "Yes, Potter?"

The dark haired boy looked uncomfortable. "Coulfgh you mof yourf fingurgh?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "What was that?" Potter gave him an irritated look and pushed Draco's finger off of his mouth. "Your finger," he said slowly, looking at Draco with curiosity. Oh. Draco felt incredibly stupid now.

"Er, I should go," he mumbled, turning away.

"Wait, Malfoy," Potter grabbed his shoulder. "So do you want to hang out or something? You know, to talk?"

Draco eyed him suspiciously. "I can't tell whether you're up to something or you're just pitying me. Or both."

Draco felt his breath catch as Potter smiled easily. "Maybe both. Anyways, since you apparently have so much to do, I'll let you go now. But think about it, will you?"

Draco looked down at Potter's hand on his shoulder and felt his stomach flip a couple of times. "Um," was all he said.

"Right. See you around, Malfoy," Potter replied, smiling and jogging back off to the pitch. Draco stared after him dumbly. What the hell was that?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I've got finals, so I just wrote this really quickly in between studying and freaking out. Here you go, hope it's not too crappy! Harry's POV. **

Chapter 3

"Really Harry?" Ron grumbled, staring miserably at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. "Why'd you have to go and befriend _Malfoy_, of all the bloody people?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his mop of hair. "I told you, Ron. There's something going on and I think that I can help."

Ron looked up at him with blunt skepticism. "Help him do what, act like a complete git to everybody? Come on, Harry. We already told you that there's nothing weird going on with Malfoy. It's all in your head, as usual!" Harry balked indignantly. "It is not! I know for sure this time that Malfoy has got something up his sleeve! But the thing is—"

"Are you still on about this Malfoy thing, Harry?" Hermione's sharp voice cut through his sentence as she walked up and sat with them.

Harry sighed again. "Mione, I'm serious. Both of you, you've got to hear me out. About a week ago, I found Malfoy in a compromising position in the abandoned bathroom in the third floor corridor—" Harry paused when he noticed Ron snickering at his choice of words and raised an eyebrow. "Not like that, you prat. He was crying about something he had to do—"

Hermione interrupted him. "Wait, you found him crying and he didn't do anything to you?" Harry glanced at her sheepishly. "Well, he tried to hex me a couple times..."

Ron snorted. "Typical Malfoy."

"Will you let me finish?" Harry snapped, and his two friends shut up with irritated expressions, but nevertheless obediently. "Anyways, I found him crying and we started fighting and he was going on about how he was not a Death Eater and punched me in the gut, then he sort of crumpled up on the ground and well..." Harry felt that rush of sympathy go through him again by the memory. "He was so vulnerable and helpless. I always believed that if I ever caught Malfoy in that condition I would laugh and walk away, because I thought that he would deserve it. But imagining it and seeing it are completely different things, and I felt bad for him. I think that whatever dilemma he's gotten himself into, I can try and help him out of. I mean, maybe I can even get him to switch sides... I don't know. But do you see why it's important for me to try to at least talk to him?"

For a long while, the only sound in the room was the soft crackling of the embers in the fireplace. Harry shifted around in his seat, uncomfortable from the intensity of his friends' stares. Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "You really want to help him, don't you? Even after all the awful things he's done to you for the past 5 years?"

Harry didn't even have to hesitate. When he was devoted to something, he was _really _devoted. And right now, he was keen on helping Malfoy, for some peculiar reason unknown even to himself. He nodded. "I do. I know he's done some horrible stuff to us, but I can't just turn away and ignore it after I saw him like that. I just feel obligated to do something about it, maybe find someone who can help him. And I can tell, he needs someone to help him."

Ron looked a bit amused. "And what sort of person can do that, Harry?" Harry shrugged. "Someone who won't let him push them around and who'll guide him in the right direction. Someone who can make Malfoy sit up and listen, someone that he can't ignore." Ron grimaced and nodded slowly. "Sounds like you."

Hermione hadn't said anything in a while, seemingly content with just observing Harry by means of scrutinizing brown eyes. He wiggled around in his chair and coughed a bit. It was as if she could see right through him. Harry tried to ignore her as he continued. "Yeah well, whatever it is he has to do, it's got to be pretty disturbing if it caused Malfoy to break down in front of _me._ First thing I want to do is get him to warm up to me a bit."

Hermione finally stopped staring and spoke up. "Well, when are you going to do that?"

Harry checked his watch. "Well, I'll know when he sends his owl, which should be right about... now." Precisely on cue, a beautiful eagle owl swooped in and landed on the armrest next to Harry with a note tied to its leg. Hermione and Ron both looked a bit shocked. "How did you know that, mate?" Ron asked, with incredulity laced in his voice.

Harry grinned and pulled out the Marauder's Map from his pocket. "He's been pacing around the Owlery for about an hour now. I reckon he's a bit wary about meeting up with me." He untied to the parchment from the owl's leg and fed him a treat. The owl looked down at him as if to say, 'that's it?' and flew away in a pompous manner.

Ron snorted. "That's Malfoy's owl, all right." Harry rolled his eyes and scanned the parchment. With a triumphant grin, he hopped up from his seat and summoned a prepared picnic basket from his room, starting towards the portrait hole. "Well, I'm off to make the world a better place! Don't wait up for me." He jumped out just as he heard Ron shout back with a laugh, "Good luck taming the dragon, mate!"

Harry wandered over to the tree where Malfoy had instructed in his note that they would meet. _Funny that Malfoy chose this particular tree, it's got to be one of my favorite spots on campus. I wonder if he comes here often too. _Harry liked to lounge around in the shade and just think. Sometimes, after Potions when Snape or Malfoy had really riled him up, he would stomp over here in a huff and immediately find himself a lot calmer. It was his relaxing spot. He didn't see anyone upon arrival, so he sat down and made himself comfortable.

His eyes were just starting to slide shut when he heard a familiar voice declare, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Potter. Merlin knows what I would do to you if you fell asleep here and let me tell you, it wouldn't be a picnic for you."

Harry opened his eyes and smiled lazily at the smirking blonde standing above him. "You like picnics, Malfoy? Good." Harry saw Malfoy's eyes widen as he pulled out the picnic basket from behind him. "Hope you like turkey sandwiches. If not, I hope you're good at pretending you do, because it's all I've got."

Malfoy seemed to snap out of his state of shock and elegantly sat down next to him. "Of course I do, Potter," he replied snidely, as if it should've been blatantly obvious to Harry that turkey was universally tolerated. Harry bit his lip to keep from chuckling. Even through the whole Malfoy façade, Harry could tell that Malfoy was quite impressed by the whole picnic thing. _Score one for Potter, _he thought jubilantly.

They chatted idly about this and that before Harry decided to drop the bomb. "So... do you want to tell me about this predicament you've gotten yourself into?" he asked, attempting to sound blasé. But Malfoy's smile immediately vanished and his features twisted into the customary scowl. "I don't just go around telling people about it, Potter. If it were up to me, you wouldn't know anything at all."

Harry shook his head. "But unfortunately for you, you can't even pretend you don't know that I haven't noticed there's something up. So you might as well just tell me."

Malfoy laughed bitterly. "It's not that simple. My friends don't even know about it." Harry frowned. If it were _him_, Ron and Hermione would be the first ones to know about it. They were always there to help him out and he didn't take that for granted too often.

"Not even Zabini? Or Pansy?" he asked, genuinely curious about why Malfoy refused to let anybody even come near his personal sphere. Malfoy stiffened at his mention of Pansy. "No. And don't even try to ask them about it, either. I don't want my cover blown." His gray eyes shifted nervously.

Harry watched him with one eyebrow raised. "Pansy knows, doesn't she? I can see that you got uncomfortable there. I will ask her, don't think I won't!" Malfoy continued to look at everything but him and he huffed impatiently. "Hey stop that, look at me! Can you just stop glancing around for a moment?" Malfoy glared at him and mumbled something incoherently, but Harry was pretty sure that he heard something along the lines of 'can _you _stop wearing those goddamn Quidditch pants', which didn't even make any sense at all.

Harry tried a different approach and put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder timidly. The boy's body became awfully tense under his grasp. "Malfoy," he said, trying to sound gentle, "I want to help you. I can get you out of it, whatever it is. You don't have to be what your father wants you to be."

Malfoy turned his whole body away from Harry. "You can't... It's too late. The only thing I can tell you is to keep a closer watch on the Headmaster." Harry furrowed his brows, trying to think about what that meant. "What do you—?"

Malfoy butted in abruptly. "I've got to go."

Harry quickly realized what was happening and gripped tighter on the other boy's shoulder. "No, no! I'm sorry, we can stop talking about it if you'd like. Will you stay if I stop?" Malfoy hesitated, but nodded slowly. "All right. How did you become friends with Pansy, anyhow?"

Harry smiled a little, relieved that Malfoy wasn't going to run away. "Ah, she needed a bit of help Potions and apparently you were pretty busy doing whatever it was you were doing, and she asked me. I guess she didn't do her research though, because everybody knows that I'm pants at Potions," he said, grinning.

Malfoy gave him a teensy smile back. "It's true, your Potions skills are quite dismal. But do go on."

Harry shot him a wounded puppy look before continuing. "So even though I couldn't help her, we just started to talk more and found that we have a lot to talk about. She's quite bright, I understand why you fancy her... you are dating her, right?" Malfoy looked genuinely surprised. "Heavens, no. We've always been just friends. Besides, she fancies—" Malfoy broke off and he looked panicked for a split second, as he proceeded to look at anything but Harry again. Harry realized that Malfoy did that whenever he was particularly ill at ease about something. _How come he'd never noticed that before?_ Malfoy found his voice again. "Never mind. Anyways, that's a fascinating story you should—"

Harry grabbed Malfoy's face and made him look him directly in the eye. "Who does she fancy?" Harry felt a little strange gossiping with Malfoy, of all people, but he had on good word that Zabini was currently going after her and Harry wanted to make sure that the infamous Slytherin manwhore didn't go anywhere near his friend. He didn't want to see her hurt. When he was friends with someone, he always felt obligated to be fiercely protective of them, and this was not an exception.

Malfoy looked extremely uncomfortable. "Nobody..."  
>Harry narrowed his eyes and pulled Malfoy's face closer until they were only inches apart. Clear gray eyes met his. "Why won't you tell me? Do I know them? Oh gods, please tell me it's not Zabini, for the love of Merlin. Or is it a Gryffindor?" Harry immediately brightened at the thought. He could definitely set Pansy up with one of his friends. He didn't usually like to play matchmaker, seeing as Ron and Hermione hadn't seemed to get a clue yet, but this was for a good cause.<p>

Malfoy tried to wriggle free of Harry's tight grip, with little success. "It's not my place to tell."

Harry tilted his head a little. "Come on. Please? I'll do anything you ask. Well maybe not _anything_, but I'll definitely do something within reason. Come ooon," he whined, leaning in a bit too close. Their noses bumped clumsily and Harry realized that he was holding his former archenemy in the most awkward way. It looked as if he was about to snog him, for Merlin's sake. Harry's eyes flicked down to Malfoy's lips. They were a pretty shade of pink, kind of like a girl's. Harry wondered idly if they were as soft as a girl's, too. He shook his head. _What was he doing?_ He let go of Malfoy hastily and felt his own face grow hot.

Malfoy looked more than a bit embarrassed as well. "It's you," he mumbled, his pale skin tinged with a rosy blush.

Harry widened his eyes. "What was that?" Malfoy huffed. "I said, she fancies _you_. For Merlin's sake."

Harry was quiet as he thought about it. Pansy was... well, she was a good friend and he'd never thought about her in that way, but he had to admit that he was a bit intrigued. He hadn't been in a relationship for a while now, and he _was _getting a bit lonely. Besides, Pansy was a pretty girl, and she had the loveliest creamy skin and pink lips. _Kind of like Malfoy's_... he shook his head again. He had to stop doing that. Harry started to warm up to the idea of dating the Slytherin girl. _Yeah. Pansy. That might be nice. _

"Do you think she would say yes if I asked her out?" he blurted out.

Malfoy bristled all of the sudden and his expression grew hard. "I don't know, Potter. But I've got to go now. This was... well, it was really quite a bore." The blonde boy sneered at him for good measure and stalked off, looking remarkably pissed off.

Harry belatedly felt a little foolish for asking Malfoy about relationship advice. Why did he think that the Slytherin would be willing to talk to him about that kind of stuff? They were hardly even acquaintances… he should've just waited until he could talk to Hermione. But what was Malfoy's problem anyway? It wasn't as if _he_ wanted Pansy.

Harry sighed and got up to check the map, finding Pansy's name in the library and figured that he should probably just give it a go. The worst she could say is no, right? _Wrong. She is a Slytherin, after all._ Oh, well. It was all about taking chances for him, anyway. He chuckled softly and sprinted all the way to the library, not wanting to lose his confidence by stalling any longer.

"Hey, Pansy," he greeted her casually, walking up behind her as she scanned the shelves.

"Oh! Hi, Harry," she chirped, turning to flash him a flirty smile. "What's up?"

Harry stared at his feet, the self-assurance completely gone now. Damn his incorrigible skills talking to girls! "Er... I was wondering..." he bit his lip. Gods, what had he gotten himself into? As he grew more awkward, she became increasingly interested. "Wondering what?"

Harry gulped. "I-was-wondering-if-you-might-want-to-go-out-with-me?" he sputtered, so speedily that he wasn't even sure that she had quite understood him.

Evidently, she did. "Oh, Harry! Yes!" Pansy threw her arms around him and he let out a sigh of relief. _Mission accomplished. _She pulled back slightly so that they were facing each other. "Are your friends okay with this?" she questioned, looking a bit concerned. He shrugged. "They know I'm friends with you. It shouldn't cause too much of an uproar, anyhow."

She smiled in relief. "I'm so glad that we're going out now," she said, before pressing her lips to his lightly. Harry instantly fought the urge to frown and pull away. He couldn't help feeling like it was a bit off. She tasted overpoweringly sweet like strawberries, and Harry didn't really care for those. He preferred the taste of something slightly spicy, like the one chapstick Cho used that he had taken a particular liking to.

_I bet Malfoy tastes spicy, like cinnamon, mmm..._

What the fuck was that? He jerked away from Pansy and hit his head with his palm, trying to get those crazy thoughts out of his head and earning a strange look from his new girlfriend. Merlin, he _had _to stop doing that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since I last updated! This is only supposed to be a couple chapters long anyway, I'm guessing as of now there will probably be about 6 or 7. I don't know, we'll see. Draco's POV.**

Chapter 4

"Isn't it wonderful, Draco? I still can't believe he asked me and I mean, I would find it sickening if I didn't fancy him so much but he's so sweet and _such_ a gentleman!"

Draco bit his lip and did his best to fake a smile at his gushing best friend. All he wanted to do was sit in the common room and read his novel, but Pansy had interrupted him and was now cooing about her and Potter's new relationship, like she had been for the past week. He was aware that his forged smiles were getting less and less convincing, but he was getting quite tired of hearing about Potter this and Potter that. It wasn't like he wasn't happy that his friend was happy, he _was_, but why did she have to go be so happy with _him_?

Pansy saw right through his phony grin and sighed. "Look, I know you don't like him, Draco. But I don't want my best friend and my boyfriend fighting all the time. Please try and be polite to him, for me?"

Draco sighed and looked away. It wasn't even an issue to play nice with Potter since he didn't have any vengeful feelings towards the green-eyed boy any longer. So what was the problem? He didn't even know why it was such a big deal, or why he even cared so damn much. But for some reason, he felt that nobody had the right to Potter but _him_. Whether it be dating him or taunting him, Potter should be Draco's, and Draco's only. And for some other reason, Draco couldn't bring himself to feel any anger towards Potter for dating his best friend. He only felt… sadness.

Pansy waved a hand in front of his face. "Draco?"

Draco looked up into her pleading eyes and sighed again. He didn't want to ruin her joy just because he was feeling out of sorts. "All right, Pansy. I won't fight with him," he agreed softly. _I don't want to anymore._

Pansy looked relieved. "Thank you, Draco," she kissed his cheek and smiled. "You're a great friend." Draco watched her get up and head to her dorm, then stared at the flames in the fireplace for a long time. If he was such a fantastic friend, why did he feel like complete rubbish?

**~x~**

Saturday morning was a crisp one, and Draco rubbed his hands together for warmth as he walked to the lake. The day before, Draco had finally been successful with the Cabinet. He stared out at the murky water and sighed deeply. The fact that he had done it should have brought him relief, but instead it added to the growing fear that was building in his chest. It all seemed much too real now. Draco suddenly had the childish desire to crawl into his bed and hide under the covers, hide from all his responsibilities and fears. Because there, he'd be safe from everything. Draco shook his head and scowled silently at his foolish thoughts. If only it could be that simple.

Suddenly, the sound of crunching leaves reached Draco's ears and he turned around to find Potter walking towards him with that damned picnic basket. Draco didn't say anything and just stared at the basket. He didn't even know why the hell Potter brought that thing along. Then again, he seemed to bring it along whenever he met up with just about anyone. He scowled bitterly at the thought and turned to face the lake as Potter approached him.

"Hey," Potter put the basket down next to Draco's feet. "Whatcha doing out here? It's freezing."

Draco didn't look up. "Just thinking."

Potter took a step towards him. "You want to talk about it?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I came out here to be alone, Potter."

The other boy took another step towards him. "You can't keep everything bottled up all the time, Malfoy."

Draco refused to face him and continued to stare out at the lake. "Yes I can."

"No, you can't."

Draco turned sharply to face Potter and glared at him. "Yes, I can. Don't try and pretend you know me, Potter. Because no matter how much you and Granger pry and watch and analyze, you will never understand me. You will never know what it's like to be me," his voice cracked involuntarily on the last word. He clenched his teeth, turning around again towards the lake to focus on the calm waves and keep his eyes from watering.

He tried not to shudder as Potter reached out and gently tilted his chin so that they were looking at each other. "So help me to understand, Draco," he said, his vibrant green eyes flashing with concern.

Draco just stared back. He opened his mouth to speak, but no reply came to his brain and no words came out. _Potter just called me Draco. _Draco's heart thumped loudly in his chest and his stomach flip-flopped as a trillion butterflies fluttered inside. Potter accepted his silence and gave him a tiny, reassuring smile. _He does care._

Draco finally wrenched his gaze away from Potter and shivered slightly as the wind picked up, suddenly realizing that he'd forgotten his cloak in his haste to get outside and away from everybody else. Potter unfastened his own cloak, swinging it around Draco's shoulders and stepping away.

"Well, when you're ready to talk about it, I'll be here," Potter said quietly, sitting down and pulling food out of the basket. "But until then… treacle tart?"

Draco smiled slightly and sat down next to him. "Sure."

The boys sat in silence and ate small treats until it was lunchtime, and then they walked side by side to the Great Hall together. Not a word was spoken between the two of them since Potter had offered him the first treacle tart, but as Potter shot Draco a tiny smile and headed off to the Gryffindor table, Draco felt as though they'd had years and years worth of exchanges.

**~x~**

Later that evening, Draco paced the common room rapidly, his thoughts racing at breakneck speed. Ever since his morning with Potter, he'd been debating whether or not to talk to him about the assignment. He knew that Potter would be the most helpful asset Draco could have on his side if he wanted to disobey the Dark Lord's orders. He was also aware that if he allowed it so, Potter would protect and defend him with every bit of that Gryffindor bravery he had so much of.

Draco's heart fluttered at the idea of Potter gallantly supporting him. Every time he thought of the other boy his heartbeat sped up… and when he was around Draco's mind turned to mush, especially when he shot that secret, special little smile at him. Draco bit his lip and frowned. What were these feelings he kept having? Potter was hardly even his friend. Only a couple weeks ago, Draco hated Potter. He hated Potter, and Potter hated him. _Only, you never really hated Potter_, his brain chided annoyingly. _You just wanted him to pay attention to you._

And now that Potter was paying attention to him, he didn't know what to do with himself. Should he tell him, or shouldn't he? What was he so afraid would happen anyway? Draco slumped his shoulders and sighed. He recalled his father's defeated expression and his mother's grief when he had received his assignment. The fear he'd tried to keep hidden as he tried again and again to repair the cabinet. The sinking feeling when he'd actually done it. He recognized the awful sense of self-loathing and feeling so caged and powerless, trapped in a life that he didn't want to live anymore.

Then he thought about Potter. The way he reacted to Draco's breakdown in the bathroom, the way he was always trying to help him even though he didn't even know what for. All of his tiny smiles and reassuring touches... Everything was better when Potter was around, everything was happier. It was as if Draco could forget all about his woes and simply _be_, just him and Potter, never having to worry about another unpleasant task or Dark Lord again.

Draco smiled at the notion and straightened up, walking briskly towards the portrait hole with his decision made. He would go find Potter, and he would tell him everything.

**~x~**

Half an hour later, Draco rubbed his forehead irritably as he walked into the library, exhausted after running around half the castle searching for Potter. He looked around and found the unmistakable crop of messy raven hair and smiling in relief, walked towards the half hidden table. "Hey Potter, I—"

"Draco!" He jumped a little when he saw Pansy grin at him from the other side of the table. "We were just talking about you."

He turned to Potter, who smiled sheepishly at him and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly with one hand. "Yeah, about how nice it is that you and I are sort of friends now," he explained. Draco, disappointed that he clearly wasn't going to have his big important talk with Potter here, merely nodded.

Pansy giggled and placed her hand on top of Potter's. "I am _so_ happy that you two are getting along."

Potter smiled. "Me too."

Draco didn't say anything. His gaze was locked on their joined hands resting on the tabletop and his stomach knotted up in unpleasant ways. "Draco?" Potter let go of Pansy's hand and stood up in front of Draco. "Are you okay?"

Draco clenched his teeth as Pansy got up too and wrapped her arm around Potter's waist. "I'm fine."

He turned to go, but Potter grabbed his arm and looked him in the eye. "Wait, don't leave. Let's just hang out, okay? We can go out to the lake, if you'd like."

Draco glanced over at Pansy and shook his head. "You're busy right now."

Potter gazed at him earnestly. "It's all right. I don't think Pansy would mind, would you, Pansy?" Pansy nodded slowly. "If you need to talk to him, Draco, that'd be all right with me."

Potter beamed at Pansy and squeezed her hand before turning and smiling brightly at Draco. "See? Come on, we can go anywhere you want."

Draco hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "The lake, then."

Potter tried to wiggle his way out of Pansy's grasp. "Brilliant. Let's go." Pansy grabbed his arm and tugged him back. "Can't leave without saying goodbye," she said playfully, leaning forward and pressing her lips against his. Draco's heart wrenched painfully inside his chest and he felt sick as he watched the couple. He suddenly felt the urge to run and cry.

Potter pulled away first, looking slightly embarrassed. "Uh, all right, I'm going now." He started walking towards Draco. "Let's go."

Draco shook his head and started backing away. "No, no, I've changed my mind, I can't—" he stuttered.

Potter looked confused and took another step forward. "But I thought we were going to talk?"

Draco glanced back at Pansy, who was watching their exchange with an odd expression on her face. He looked back at Potter and his incredible emerald eyes shining with worry and felt his heart twist again. No. No. _No._ He shouldn't feel this way! He couldn't fall for Potter, he was with Pansy, he was off limits, he was—well, he was…

_Everything_.

The urge to cry was swiftly reemerging and Draco tried to shake out all the traitorous thoughts in his head. He had to get out. He couldn't do this. There was no way. "No, no! I don't want to talk—ever! I can't—I don't want to—I have to go," he sputtered, backing up some more.

Potter widened his pretty eyes. "What? You don't… What's wrong? What have I done?"

"I just—Harry," Draco's voice sounded desperate and his eyes darted from Pansy to Potter to the door. "I can't," was all he could manage before whirling around and bolting out of the room. He didn't stop until he reached the safety of his room.

Draco plopped down on his bed and brought his knees up to his chest. The cloak that Potter—Harry—had lent him was draped across his bed, and he lay down and buried his face in it, inhaling the scent that was a hundred percent Harry Potter. Sighing, he closed his eyes and shook his head. His treacherous feelings were breaking him yet again. It was painfully clear to him that he was falling for Harry… and it was too late to try and stop.

Draco sighed again. _But I can't do anything._ It would be wrong and unfair, to many people. Besides, Harry would never feel the same way. He only pitied Draco, and it certainly didn't mean that he had any romantic feelings for him. He was _Harry Potter,_ for Merlin's sake, why should he go out of his way to care for someone like Draco?

Draco sat up and took a deep breath. For the sake of everyone involved, he would stay away from Harry. He would do this on his own.

**(Another) Author's Note: I'm sorry but I love the dramatics! Also, I'm adding little ~x~ marks to make reading a bit easier, does that help you guys at all? Just wondering. **

**All right, it's 4 AM now and I'm SO tired! Be grateful and enjoy! Ha... **

**The things I do for you guys. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: And again, I apologize for the wait. This is Harry's POV.**

Chapter 5

"Draco—"

Harry tried to grab for his arm but the other boy smoothly avoided him and walked away as quickly as possible. Harry slumped down and sighed as he watched him disappear down the crowded corridor. This was the millionth time he'd tried to catch Draco in the past few weeks, and he hadn't been successful once. He'd tried waiting outside the Slytherin common room, then in various places that Draco liked to spend time at, tried to speak to him at breakfast, lunch, and dinner—all to no avail. The blonde was stubbornly keeping away from him. And Harry didn't even know why. He sighed and kicked the floor apathetically. He didn't know what had made Draco run like that. He'd looked so panicked and scared—maybe Harry had turned him off or something? He shook his head. He spent all his free time thinking about it, plotting ways to get Draco to talk to him or attempting his plots to get him to talk to him. Either way, Harry found himself becoming more and more obsessed with Draco.

As the weeks went by Harry watched the other boy carefully. He watched how Draco pretended to study in the library, watched when Draco picked listlessly at his food at mealtimes, watched when Draco faked smiles and sneers and taunts, and watched how he snuck off at various points of the day and came back with the most solemn expression. He also watched how Draco began to isolate himself from his friends, watched the way he bit his lip whenever his Malfoy masked slipped even just the slightest bit, watched as that expression—the broken, vulnerable one he'd witnessed in the bathroom weeks before—became a regular struggle to keep hidden.

Harry watched as Draco Malfoy started to slip away.

He screwed his eyes shut briefly before opening them and began walking towards the school entrance, suddenly in need of some air. He approached the stone steps leading outside as the sun was just starting to set and the sky was luminescent with pretty colors of swirling orange and pink, tinged by a dark lining near the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Harry chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. What was Draco doing right now?

"Harry, there you are! Where are you going, it's almost dinnertime," Harry turned his head and watched as his girlfriend drew near and smiled at him.

"Hello, Pansy. I'm just going to take a walk," he answered, turning back to observe the rapidly changing colors of the sky.

Pansy frowned a little and tilted her head. "But it's getting dark. Come on. I'll sneak you into my dorm again and we can have a little alone time," she waggled her eyebrows a bit at the last words. Harry shuddered. They'd had "alone time" when he'd snuck into her dorm last week, and she practically mauled him the second he'd entered the room. She'd kissed him until his lips were uncomfortably sore, then proceeded to attempt to strip him of his clothes before he jumped back and told her that he wasn't feeling well and bolted out. Since then she'd been hinting very blatantly for them to try again, but Harry was sure he didn't want to try again. Ever.

"No thanks. I really just want to take a walk," he said after a while.

Pansy stuck out her lower lip. "Fine," she pouted crossly. Then she brightened. "How about I come with you?"

Harry widened his eyes and shook his head. "No, no. I want to be alone."

Her face fell. "Why do you always want to be alone?"

Harry cringed as he saw the hurt glistening in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

She gazed at him searchingly and took his hand. "Can you tell me about it?"

Harry had thought about discussing his worries about Draco with Pansy before but for some reason, it felt wrong. It was like he didn't want her to help him worry about Draco. He wanted to do it by himself. He shook his head. "No." Slipping his hand out of her grasp, he started to walk away. "I'm sorry, I'll see you at dinner," he called back. She didn't answer, and he was fine with that.

**~x~**

As the night enveloped the sky in darkness, Harry sat with his back to a large tree trunk with his knees drawn up to his chest and took his wand out of his pocket. Holding it up, he whispered _Lumos_ and watched the water sparkle as the light from his wand bounced off of it. He smiled a little and absently followed the tiny light with his eyes. Just a few weeks ago, he had followed Draco here to this very spot and convinced the other boy to sit down and have a picnic with him. Harry had checked the lake regularly for him, but he never came back. It was understandable, though. He almost certainly knew that Harry would look for him there. Quietly, he inspected the glowing tip of his wand.

"_Nox."_

The light disappeared rapidly and Harry was alone in the darkness once more. He leaned back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. He used to loathe the obscurity of the shadowy night, it used to scare him halfway to hell and made him feel trapped and defenseless. But recently, he'd grown quite fond of the pitch black. He felt safely cloaked by the dark, as if nobody could find him. That was ridiculous, of course, because in reality anyone could just be out there watching and he wouldn't have a clue. Still, he _felt_ safe. And that's all that really mattered to him.

He let his mind wander back to Draco, and how that morning he'd received an owl and looked absolutely terrified by it. If course, it had only been for a moment and that familiar expression of susceptibility melted away as quickly as it came. He wondered idly what the message had been. Had it been related to the dark, dirty deed he had been sentenced to? Harry had spent long nights lying awake trying to figure out what that deed was and he still hadn't come up with anything, other than it was possibly the most dreadful thing on the planet since it had broken the icy exterior of Draco Malfoy, and it had to do with Dumbledore.

Harry furrowed his brow in deep concentration. Why was he so worked up over this anyway? That was another thing he had yet to figure out. It was true that he and Draco had become friendlier ever since he'd discovered something was wrong, but why did he continue to pursue it? At first, he'd blamed it on his habit of taking the helpless under his wing. But was that really it? Draco's broken, tear-stained face looking up at him from the floor replayed over and over in his mind, an image that as of recently had been constantly on repeat. Why wouldn't the other boy let him in? Couldn't he see that Harry cared so much?

A distant noise pulled Harry from his thoughts and his eyes shot open, ears suddenly alert. He heard footsteps crunching through the dry leaves scattered about the ground and got up, drawing his wand from his pocket and whispering a quick _Lumos_. He glanced around hopefully. _Maybe…_

"Harry? Harry? Are you out here?" A familiar and definitely female voice rang out through the darkness.

Harry sighed and lowered his wand a little. It wasn't him. "I'm here," he called out weakly.

Ron and Hermione appeared into the area of light from Harry's wand. Hermione ran up to him and grabbed his hand. Ron clutched his shoulder. "Mate, you okay? You missed dinner."

Harry nodded slowly. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

Hermione gazed at him with concern. "Harry, we're worried about you. You've grown quite distant over these past few weeks. What's wrong? Is it You-Know-Who? Or have you had a fight with Pansy?"

Ron cringed at the sound of her name. "I mean, if you have, we'd completely support you if you wanted to break up with her—ouch!" he was interrupted by Hermione's quick slap to the arm, "I mean, you could talk to us about it," he offered instead.

Harry shook his head. "No, it's not any of that. I'm just… I'm just worried about Draco," he said softly, slowly sitting back down by the trunk. His friends followed. "I think something bad is about to happen," he added.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I don't understand what's up with you and him. First, you hate his guts, then you're trying to befriend him, and then you're following him around and worrying about him like you're his mother. I mean, you've got to update us more frequently."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I liked it better when you just hated his guts."

Hermione hit his shoulder again. "Shut up, Ron. Harry, really. If there's something you need to tell us, please do so." Her gaze was scrutinizing.

Harry looked at her questioningly. "What am I supposed to say, Hermione? I'm just… I'm just so worried about him. I mean, you didn't see the look on his face that night in the bathroom; it was like he had no choice, no help—nothing. Every time I see him I get this racing feeling inside, like I need to just take him and protect him with everything I've got." He turned to face Ron, who was looking at him curiously now as well. "And I know you don't like him at all and I know it doesn't make sense to you but I care about him. Something changed that night, or maybe nothing changed and I just hadn't realized it before—but I do care about him. And I feel so helpless because he's pushing me away for no good reason and it hurts because I just want to be there for him, like the way you are for me and I am for Hermione and she is for you. I just want him to know that he _does_ have a choice, and that choice is me."

Both of his friends' expressions had softened as he stopped talking, and he realized that his tone of voice had somehow become quite desperate somewhere in the middle of his grand speech. He looked at the ground sheepishly as they were quiet for a while.

"Do you really feel that way about him, mate?" Ron asked finally.

Harry glanced up. "I do, Ron," he answered.

Hermione smiled a bit sadly at him. "I think you care about him a little more than a friend, Harry," she said.

Harry frowned. "I do?" He thought back to what he had just said. He saw a flash of the instant replay of Draco's face again and felt an immediate pang of concern and fear in his chest. He blinked slowly with realization. "I do…" he repeated.

Hermione nodded. "It's okay, Harry. I think… I think I've guessed that you had feelings for him for a couple of weeks now," she admitted.

Harry and Ron both looked at her in surprise. "Since when? And why didn't you tell me?" Ron demanded.

Hermione shrugged. "I knew you would freak out. And I've been having my suspicions ever since Harry first came to us saying that he wanted to help Malfoy. I know you, Harry," she turned to face him and smiled benignly. "And I know that you can't help it when your heart goes out to someone. It was just a tiny little concern that I saw in your eyes then, but as time passed I saw it blossoming into something more." Harry looked at her and nodded, shocked that she'd perceived all that when he himself had failed to do anything but flail around neurotically in his head. She took his hand and continued. "You really care about him, but don't you think that this obsession that you've had with him is a little more than platonic? Honestly, I should have seen it years ago. You two have always been hopelessly fixated with one another, he's the only one you've ever been unable to ignore and vice versa. I assume that it should've been quite obvious you would fall in love with him someday."

Harry raised his eyebrows in alarm. "Hermione, I'm not in love with him! I've only just recently discovered that I even fancy him!" he exclaimed.

Hermione chuckled. Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, mate, we know that. But you will, even I can see that. You'll love him. And when you love, you love with all your heart, not just part of it."

Harry stared at him. "You'd be okay with that?" he asked softly.

Ron's down-turned mouth twitched up for a moment. "Of course. I'm your best friend, Harry," he answered. "I'll always be okay with whatever you choose." Harry assumed he probably still looked worried, because Ron continued on. "I know I can be pretty narrow-minded sometimes and I've hated Malfoy for as long as I can remember," he admitted, "but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to try to accept him for you."

Harry immediately brightened and lunged forward, capturing both of his best friends in a tight hug. "I love you guys," he whispered in their ears. "I don't know where the hell I'd be without you."

Both of his friends chuckled. "Neither would we, mate," Ron answered easily. "Now let's go back, eh? You've got some dinner to catch up on!"

**~x~**

Harry carefully avoided Pansy throughout the night, opting to stay in the safety of the Gryffindor common room after sneaking into the kitchens with Ron and Hermione for a bite to eat. He didn't know how to face her now that he knew that he was interested in someone else. Especially when that someone else was her best friend, the best friend who wanted nothing to do with Harry anyway. How was he supposed to go about this?

Harry snuggled into his seat by the fire, closing his eyes and burying his face into a pillow. If only he could sink into this very couch and be invisible, so that he could just observe and listen and sleep and do whatever he pleased and nobody could ruin it for him. Not even a certain blonde Slytherin boy whose very existence threatened to tear Harry's heart to pieces. Not even him.

He sighed and watched the flames flicker moodily as Hermione came and sat next to him. When he didn't say anything, she moved closer. "Don't you think you need to go talk to Pansy now?"

He shifted away from her. "Later."

She raised an eyebrow. "The longer you wait, the more you'll hurt her… not to mention yourself," she added. Harry just grunted in response. She sighed. "Harry. If you fancy Malfoy, she's got to know."

"I know," he mumbled. "I just don't know how to do it."

She patted his arm. "Just be truthful. You're not going to feel better until you do this."

Harry tried to turn away from her again, only to come face-to-face with Ron standing above him with his arms folded across his chest. "Stop moping and just do it," he commanded. Harry gaped in surprise as he glared down at him. "Where's your Gryffindor bravery? Come on now, you're Harry Potter! You're the Boy Who Lived!"

Harry cringed. "Stop it Ron, ugh! I'm going," he grumbled, shoving himself off the couch and storming towards the portrait hole.

He heard Hermione chuckle behind him. "That's one way to do it," she commented with amusement. He scowled, but then smiled. He really did love his friends.

**~x~**

Because of the lateness of the hour, Harry whipped his invisibility cloak out from his pocket and covered himself with it as he quietly tiptoed towards the dungeons. As he got closer, his chest tightened with guilt as he thought of how Pansy might react when she found it. Would she be angry? Horrified? Tearful? All of the above? He shuddered quietly under the cloak. It was a bad idea to think about it.

When he was halfway down the corridor to the dungeons, Harry bumped into something hard and tripped, falling onto the floor with a muffled yelp. He looked up and saw someone appear out of thin air and glance around, looking suspicious. "Pansy?" he asked aloud.

She looked down in his general direction. "Harry?"

He pulled off the cloak and her expression relaxed. "Oh, it is you. Sorry about that," she peered closer at him. "Was that an invisibility cloak?"

He nodded. "Yeah. But how did you—"

She waved it off. "Disillusionment charm." She held out a hand for him to take.

"Oh." He took her hand and let her hoist him up. "Listen Pansy, I've got to talk to you."

She smiled a little. "You want to break up with me."

Harry widened his eyes. "What? How did you—"

"I'm not as dumb as people think I am, you know," she cut him off, still giving him that tight smile. "Your disinterest wasn't exactly an enigma. You've got to give me some credit."

Harry gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry Pansy, I really am. I just—"

She cut him off again. "You just don't care about me the way you care about him," she whispered.

He stopped, his mouth hanging open. "But how—?"

Her eyes glistened. "I see the way you look at him, Harry. The way you watch him and worry about him in what you think is a discreet manner. Even before, I saw how eager you were to be around him instead of me."

Harry felt that inevitable twinge of shame. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I can't help the way I feel," he said softly.

She shook her head. "It's all right, and you know why? I also see the way he looks at you. The way he watches you and worries about you when he thinks I'm not looking. How eager he was to be around you. That's what makes it all right… because he's my best friend, Harry. I know him, and I know you. I'm not heartless enough to ignore that what you have with me will never compare to the chemistry between you and Draco. I don't feel betrayed by either of you, I can't. I know it's not either of your faults. Besides, I care about both of you too much to be angry with you for long anyhow."

Harry took a deep, shaky breath and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. "You're a lovely, wonderful girl Pansy," he whispered. "And someday some lovely, wonderful boy will come and sweep you off your feet."

She smiled and hugged him back. "But until then, I can wait."

He squeezed her tightly before stepping back and peering down at his muggle watch. It was too dark to see. "What time is it, do you know?"

She shrugged. "A bit past midnight, I reckon. I went to go find you about a quarter till."

"Was Draco in the Slytherin common room?"

She thought for a moment and frowned. "No… Actually, I hadn't seen him all night. I thought he was in his room but when I knocked a couple hours ago, he wasn't there. He could be there now, perhaps. But it's unlikely."

He bit his lip. "Do you think he's out walking? I've run into him a couple times after curfew before," he admitted. "But that was when he used to take points away from me for doing so."

Pansy furrowed her brows, turning away from him and pacing in circles. "That could be. Or he's—" Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she shook her head furiously. "No, no, he couldn't be—He said he wouldn't!" She was almost yelling now.

Harry grabbed her arm in panic. "What? What is it?" he demanded.

She whirled around to face him. "Draco, he's got an assignment but I didn't think that it was tonight or that he'd actually go through with it but oh gods I think he's going to—"

"Going to what?" Harry shouted, grabbing both her arms and shaking her urgently. "What is he going to do?"

Pansy's eyes were as wide as saucers as she leaned in and whispered,

"He's going to kill Dumbledore."

**(Another) Author's Note: All right! So this one is a bit longer than usual, so I hope that makes up for my lack of updating. I believe there will only be one more chapter, but who knows, there may be another. That's just a heads up! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry I've kept you guys waiting! This is Draco's POV.**

Chapter 6

Draco had been standing in the shadows of the Astronomy Tower for the past hour. He knew that the Headmaster often took nightly strolls throughout the castle and was specifically informed that he would come here tonight. Draco sighed and observed the darkened sky grimly. He wished with all his might that the man wouldn't come. His fingers wrapped tightly around his wand, his other hand was balled up in a fist at his side and he felt himself tremble with dread at the thought of taking a life with his own spell and wand.

The wind picked up slightly and he shivered, wishing he'd brought a warmer cloak. It was a cold night. He suddenly thought of how Harry had generously shared his cloak with Draco that day at the lake. What would he think of Draco after tonight? His heart tightened painfully in his chest. _He'd go back to loathing me for good. He'd never want to see me again. _He swallowed noisily and desperately tried to conceal his emotions. Draco knew that Harry would've attempted to help him out of this suicide mission, but ever since that day he'd seen him and Pansy kissing in the library he couldn't even look at the green-eyed boy without feeling that shock of hurt stab at his heart. He knew, deep down, that it was ridiculous of him to deny himself of Harry's help since it was a matter of Draco's life on the line. But whenever he'd give in and decide to try to talk to Harry again, he'd catch a glimpse of the Gryffindor laughing with his friends, grabbing at the snitch during practice, botching up yet another assignment in class… and he just couldn't do it. He couldn't endure that horrible feeling of regret and more importantly, he absolutely could not drag Harry into _his_ mess. He'd rather surrender himself than feel that stab of pain in his chest for the rest of his life. He'd rather die than become the cause of anything that could hurt Harry.

He closed his eyes and took a small, shaky breath. Draco was going to die, that he was sure of. If he couldn't kill Dumbledore, You-Know-Who would kill him. If he did kill Dumbledore, someone from the Light Side would kill him. Draco imagined Harry threatening him, his wand menacingly pointed at his chest. He imagined Harry's beautiful, sweet face all scrunched up in pure hatred and disgust towards Draco. He bit his lip, willing his heartbeat to slow down and his teeth to stop chattering. _Stop it_, he scolded himself. _You will do this, because you have no choice. Tonight everything changes._

There was a sudden noise at the door and Draco's eyes flew open. He spun around quickly and saw the old Headmaster glide into the small, dark area towards the balcony. Trembling, he raised his wand in defense. This was it. This was the night all hell would break loose. It was do or die now. He stepped out of the shadows. Without turning to look at him, Dumbledore spoke. "Draco, my boy, you should be in bed at this time. Is something troubling you?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Draco managed, trying to keep his voice level and cold.

The old man glanced at him, then at his outstretched arm. "Ah, is that so? I find that this tower is a lovely place to visit when I need a place to think," he said calmly. Draco didn't say anything, but shifted nervously. Dumbledore gazed benignly at him. "You won't do this, Draco."

Draco gasped a little and raised his wand higher. "What makes you think I won't?" he sneered.

Dumbledore sighed. "You're not _him_, Draco. Nor are you your father. Don't choose this path." Draco's hand immediately flew to his left sleeve and he winced. The presence of the Dark Mark on his forearm never failed to make him shudder. It symbolized everything he feared, everything he wanted to escape. And now he was unable to run any longer. Dumbledore saw him flinch. "I can help you, Draco, if you'll let me."

Draco lowered his wand a bit and stared at his headmaster, not knowing what to say, or what to do. Could he really accept Dumbledore's help? Could this be the answer to his problems? Sensing Draco's hesitancy, the headmaster moved closer. "There are so many of us who can aid you, Draco. Myself, the staff—and I have the knowledge that you and Mr. Potter have become closer this year. I happen to know that he cares about you deeply. He will help protect you to the furthest extent."

Draco felt that stab of pain at the mention of Harry. He clenched his teeth and raised his wand again. "I don't need him, nor do I need you!"

Dumbledore looked a bit taken aback at his sudden change in attitude. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I _do_!"

"Years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices…. Please let me help you—"

Draco felt tears rolling down his cheeks and his wand arm shook tremulously. "I don't want your help! Don't you understand? I _have_ to do this, I _have_ to kill you… Or he's going to kill me."

Dumbledore frowned and his eyes flashed momentarily towards the door. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw several Death Eaters entering the room, including Bellatrix and Snape, and quickly turned back to Dumbledore with his wand raised even higher. Bellatrix glanced from him to Dumbledore and a small, malicious grin formed on her lips. "Well done, Draco," she said, her shrill voice ringing throughout the tower, making Draco wince involuntarily. He looked away at the floor, biting his lip. "Well come on, we don't have all day," she urged.

The other Death Eaters sighed with impatience. "He's not going to kill him," Fenrir snarled. "Let me do it!"

"No!" Bellatrix snapped. "The order was clear. This assignment was for Draco." She moved closer to him. "_Come on_, Draco! Do it!"

Draco shuddered and gasped, tears still rolling down his face. His hands were shaking visibly and his chest heaved with the tears he was trying so desperately to hold in. He looked around urgently and caught his godfather's gaze, pleading noiselessly with his eyes for him to do something, _anything_. The other man just stared back at him, looking hopelessly sad.

"Expelliarmus!"

Everyone in the room whipped their heads around at the sound of a loud, clear, _familiar_ voice from the doorway. Draco gasped again upon seeing Harry standing at the door, wand raised and pointed at Bellatrix. _No! What is he doing here, he shouldn't be here! He needs to be safe!_ Draco then noticed that Pansy was right behind him, her wand pointed towards the rest of them. Bellatrix laughed wickedly and lazily waved her wand around. "Missed me," she taunted. Harry narrowed his eyes and walked slowly into the tower, Pansy trailing behind him. His green eyes flickered over to Draco for a moment, and then focused back on Bellatrix.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Crucio!"

"Stupefy!"

"Incarcerous!"

Draco's eyes widened as Harry was bound in ropes and fell to the ground at Bellatrix's feet. She laughed cruelly. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here," she snarled, circling Harry with her chin raised. "Poor, defenseless Potter. Come to rescue your precious Dumbledore, have you?" She smirked and jabbed her wand into his cheek, then ran it along his jaw line threateningly.

Harry glared at her. "Yes. And Draco," he snapped.

Bellatrix laughed again. "And _Draco_? For what? He_ hates_ you," she jeered.

Harry was silent for a moment, and Draco was afraid he'd actually believed her. Then the boy's glare hardened significantly. "But _I_ don't hate _him_," he shot back.

Bellatrix slapped him across the face, hard. "It's so convenient of you to drop by," she snarled in his ear, "the Dark Lord will be very pleased. It'll be like killing two birds with one stone."

Draco forgot completely about Dumbledore and dropped his arm, running over to Harry's side. "NO!"

Bellatrix gave him a sharp, questioning look, before her gaze landed on Pansy still standing, wand pointed at Yaxley. "And you," she spat, narrowing her eyes at the Slytherin girl, "little miss _traitor_, do you wish to have the same fate as your boyfriend here," she motioned over at Harry. "Or do you want to redeem yourself? I'm sure the Dark Lord will have some mercy on you and give you only a slight punishment."

Pansy straightened out and sneered back at her. "When hell freezes over." Bellatrix smiled nastily and nodded lazily at Fenrir, who grabbed Pansy aggressively from behind and started to drag her away.

"NO!" Potter yelled, his voice only slightly muffled by the ropes binding him. "PLEASE!"

Bellatrix laughed maniacally. "Stupid Potter, is that all you do? Sacrifice the ones you love?"

Draco stiffened and felt that sharp jab in his chest again, but chose to ignore it. He fell to his knees by Harry and grabbed his arm. "Don't listen to her, Harry," he whispered. Harry looked back at him with urgency and concern.

Bellatrix swooped down upon him. "What are you doing, Draco? Remember your mission!" she screeched.

Draco glanced over and saw a now tied-up Dumbledore being monitored by Yaxley, who had probably taken over when Draco ran to Harry's side. He turned back to Bellatrix. "I can't." He looked over at Harry again, and took his hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. _Sorry for all those years of taunting. Sorry for icing you out. Sorry for getting you into this mess. Sorry for needing you. _ Harry squeezed his hand back in acceptance.

Bellatrix looked down at them in disgust for a moment, before her eyes widened and she grinned. "It's all right, Draco," she purred. "You won't kill him."

Draco stared at her in confusion mixed in with dread, as he saw the smile on her face growing. "What?"

She took him by the collar and pulled him up, tearing him away from Harry. "You won't kill Dumbledore," she repeated, moving forward to kick Harry's torso violently. His green eyes fluttered shut in pain. "You'll kill Harry Potter instead."

Draco gasped and backed off, staring wide-eyed at the bound boy on the floor. "N-n-no," he stammered.

Yaxley cut in. "But the Dark Lord wanted to kill Harry Potter."

Bellatrix waved him off. "It doesn't matter, he wants the boy _dead_."

"But—"

"Silence!" she screamed, and Yaxley shrunk back in compliance. She turned back to Draco. "Kill him!"

Draco sank back down to the floor. "I can't!" he yelled.

She glared at him furiously. "Why not? Have you no backbone, boy?" she screeched, circling him menacingly.

Draco shook his head silently. "I—I can't," he repeated.

Bellatrix yanked him up and stabbed her wand into his neck forcefully. "Do it," she whispered, her sharp nails digging into his arm painfully. "_Do it now_!" Draco felt tears rolling down his face as he looked down at the bundle on the floor that was Harry Potter. He made a noise of anguish as he lifted his wand ever so slightly towards him. "Yes, Draco, yes," Bellatrix purred into his ear, her wand still at his throat. "Kill him, and I won't have to kill you."

Draco bit his lip and stared down at the boy he'd known for so many years—the boy he'd once hated, the boy he now loved. When he had realized his love for Harry, he didn't know. But he knew that it was there, definite and true. "You once told me that I had choices. But I didn't listen then," he whispered to him, "and now I don't have any."

Harry looked back up at him with an unreadable expression. "No, you don't," he agreed softly. "But before you do this, I just want you to know something."

Draco started to kneel down to face level with him, but Bellatrix's strong grip only let him lean in. "What is it?" he asked, the pain evident in his voice.

Harry looked up at him with clear green eyes filled with conviction. "I love you, Draco."

Draco's breath caught and his vision became fuzzy as tears once again flooded his eyes. "But Pansy—" he croaked.

Harry shook his head. "_You_," he smiled with even more certainty. "It's always been you."

Draco closed his eyes. Harry loved him and he loved Harry. A million emotions swirled in his brain at the thought—joy, grief, regret. He gasped for air as Bellatrix's wand dug deeper into his skin in reminder. This was only going to make what he had to do so much harder. "How tragic," Bellatrix snarled at Harry, "having the one you love hate you. You are pathetic," she sneered. Draco raised his wand up towards Harry wordlessly, and she laughed. "Any last words, Potter?"

Harry sighed and looked back up at Draco. "Be quick," he murmured, his pretty eyes filling with tears. As he shut them, the tears spilt from the corners and ran down his cheek. "Don't forget that I love you."

Draco shook his head, his gaze hardened. "No. Don't _you_ forget that _I_ love _you_," he corrected, raising his wand up past Harry.

Harry stared back at him in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Draco smiled sadly at him. "I'd rather die than lose you."

"What? No!" Harry wriggled furiously in an attempt to free himself from the ropes. "Draco, kill me! Please, please _kill me_!"

Draco only smiled again and held the wand up to his own head. "I love you, Harry." He took a deep breath, ignoring the screams and begging from Harry and the maniacal laughter from Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters. "Avada—"

**Author's Note: And I leave you with that! Ha ha ha! How about them dramatics? I'm sorry, but I decided another chapter is in order because I'm evil and I like cliffhangers. A few notes, though, I used a couple of actual lines from the movie, as well as characters present. I had to make changes, of course, but that's that. Also, I don't know whether or not someone could Avada Kedavra themselves, but I found this idea and I particularly liked it: that you can't Avada Kedavra yourself unless you really mean it. And of course, Draco really means it because he loves Harry and blah blah blah. All right I think that's it, so see you next chapter! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I think I've waited long enough… so this is it! Harry's POV. **

Chapter 7

"Draco, NO!" Harry tried to reach out for the other boy and make him put the wand down from his head but no matter what he did, he was still tightly bound from Bellatrix's curse. "_Please_ kill me!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the dreaded words being shouted, tears rolling rapidly down his face. "NO! NO! Oh gods, no! no no no no _NO_..." His words were caught in his throat as his sobs became louder. He heard a multitude of yells and curses, heard people running around the room. But he didn't open his eyes or try to move. He knew now that Draco was out of the way, there was nothing stopping Bellatrix from summoning Voldemort and killing him. But oddly, he didn't care that he was about to die. There were so many people he loved who had already died for Harry, so many people… and now Draco was gone too. He wouldn't let anybody else die for him. If this was his end, so be it. He'd go quietly.

Suddenly, all was very quiet. Harry's eyes flew open when he felt someone grab his arm and start to drag him out of the room. He managed to turn his head and saw that it was Snape, whose face was grim and controlled. He glared up at the man in pure hatred. Harry could handle Bellatrix handing him over to Voldemort, but Snape? No. That would be too much. He wriggled around, trying hard to make Snape lose his grip on his bundled body and drop him.

"Get off!" He tried to scream, even though the binds were covering his mouth.

"Shut up, Potter!" Snape growled under his breath. "I'm_ trying_ to help you here!"

Oh, that was likely. "I'm sure, after all the help you've just contributed." He suddenly remembered the Headmaster and he tried to glance around for him, but his head wouldn't turn. "Where's Dumbledore? Has your lot killed him already?" Harry demanded.

"It's fine, I've taken care of him," Snape responded, still struggling to drag him away. Harry slammed his lower body into Snape's legs, and the Potions master grimaced in pain. "Will you stop that?" he snapped, shoving him into the corner of the room. "And shut up!"

Harry shot him another defiant glare before glancing around the room, certain that he'd see Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters crowded around, gleefully watching Snape manhandle him. To his surprise, the room was entirely empty, save a few crumpled bodies on the floor. Confused, he scanned the faces. He saw some Death Eaters scattered around, but he didn't see Bellatrix or Fenrir Greyback. It was like they completely disappeared.

Snape muttered a quick spell and Harry felt the binds around him fall slack. He pushed himself out of the ropes and looked up at Snape, who put his finger to his lips to silence him. Bewildered but reassured, Harry complied. Snape looked around to check his surroundings, and then tossed Harry the wand he'd dropped earlier. "Be alert just in case anybody else comes around. I have to go check something." Harry nodded at his professor's words, and the man crept out the door and disappeared.

He settled back in the corner and observed the gloomy moonlight shining down, a dull glow upon the fallen bodies. He shuddered, suddenly cold by the eerily haunted atmosphere in the room. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them, overwhelmed by the events of the night. He had so many questions, but nobody to answer them. Where was Pansy and Dumbledore? Were they all right? And how did all these Death Eaters fall, what happened to Bellatrix and Greyback? Why was Snape helping him? What had happened when his eyes were closed? And Draco…

His head shot up, hope suddenly filling his chest at maximum speed. Maybe if Snape had saved Draco before he did anything, or maybe if he'd had done all this damage himself somehow… Harry's heart plummeted southward with a sickening thud as his gaze fell on a lone body in the centre of the room. He gasped, a weird sort of animalistic noise escaping from his throat, and he threw himself from the corner of the room to Draco's side.

Draco's body was positioned like he had fallen quite hard on his head. His arms lay by his side and his wand was only a few inches from him, as if he'd dropped it there when he fell. Harry felt fresh, warm tears falling from his eyes as his gaze dropped to Draco's pallid face, illuminated by the moonlight as if he were a fallen angel. His eyes were closed as if he were just sleeping, with light blonde eyelashes creating a thick curtain to shield them. Harry raised a trembling hand to Draco's cheek, lightly brushing it and shivering at the temperature of his skin. Ice.

"Draco," Harry whispered. He could hear the pure agony even in his own voice. "Draco. I'm so sorry. I should've stopped you. It's my fault you're like this," his voice broke as he imagined the responding smirk he would never get. "It should've been me. Why wasn't it me?"

Harry felt a strangled, hysteric laugh escape him and he shook his head. "Oh gods, I wish you could answer me. You'd probably tell me how dramatic I'm being, or to stop whining like a bloody Gryffindor. But I'd take any of that, any day. Can you hear me? You could punch me in the face, or laugh at me, or tell me I'm incompetent in a condescending tone. Anything. Please?"

"What are you doing, Potter?"

Harry whipped around as he saw Snape reentering the room, brushing off invisible lint from his black robes. He glanced down at Harry kneeling by Draco's unconscious body, but he didn't look fazed. Something about that offhand look made Harry's blood boil. And even if the man had saved him in some way, it didn't stop Harry from speaking his mind. "How can you just stand there with that expression of indifference? Didn't you care about him at all? I thought he was your godson!" Harry yelled.

Snape was still unperturbed. "He is my godson," he replied.

"He _was _your godson," Harry corrected, "and _now_ he's dead!"

Snape smirked. "I think you are mistaken, Potter."

"What…—? How the hell am I mistaken? Do you see him? He's _dead_!"

"I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing."

"No! I demand you tell me what you are talking about! What happened? Where are all the Death Eaters, where's Pansy, what about—"

Harry was interrupted by a flash of light hitting him square in the chest and knocking him unconscious.

**~x~**

When Harry woke up again, he was lying in the infirmary dressed in nothing but the flimsy hospital gown provided for him. When he sat up to look around, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his head. Groaning, he lay back down on the pillow gingerly. Gods, what happened? He remembered frantically rushing to the Tower, but then what? He tried to move his body around again but found that all the muscles in his arms and lower body were tense and sore. Ah, that must've been a result from the binding hex Bellatrix put on him. Now he remembered. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced to his right, surprised to see Dumbledore sitting calmly next to him, watching him notice him with a smile. "Why hello, Harry. Good to see you up and moving," the Headmaster greeted.

Harry blinked at him, confused. He closed his eyes and rubbed them again. "What day is it?"

"It's Wednesday. You've missed almost a week of classes, dear boy. We'll have to get you caught up again."

"Oh. Merlin, my head hurts."

"Yes, Severus says he feels bad about that, but I don't believe he's being quite truthful. You were having a hard time coping with things, so I suppose he had to calm you with a spell. Though he won't tell me which spell. Funny one that man is."

Harry turned away from him, his eyes still shut. "I don't suppose you know what happened," he said.

"Oh, I do. But I'll just condense it for you. The Death Eaters are all awaiting their trials sentencing them to a lifetime in Azkaban, save for Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback, who I've heard had both accidentally been killed in crossfire." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously at that. "Ms. Parkinson is fine, a little bruised up, but fine. She's been in here a couple of times to check on you, too. In fact, she sent these with me today, in case you woke up." The Headmaster gestured to a vase of flowers on his bedside table.

"Hm, that's nice. Pansy's not usually the type for flowers, but I do appreciate them," Harry observed. "What about Ron and Hermione? Have they—?"

"Oh yes. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger have both been in here non-stop. Madame Pomfrey can't seem to get rid of them, they're always at your bedside. Actually, they were just rushed out of here a few minutes before you came around because they had to go to class. I tell you, Ms. Granger has been absolutely harried by your state, and I presume that Mr. Weasley isn't faring much better. They've been kind enough to bring you a few things though, as well."

Harry glanced over at the table again and found a few chocolate frogs and a Quidditch magazine resting by the flower vase, clearly from Ron, and some reading books and class notes neatly arranged in Hermione's careful script next to that. It was nice that his friends cared about him so much. He'd be sure to thank them when they came back. "What about you, Headmaster? Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, I'm quite all right. Severus made sure I got out of there unharmed. You know, I'm an old man, a little assistance couldn't hurt at that point."

Harry was quiet, trying to remember what exactly he'd been doing there. If the Headmaster was okay, that meant the Death Eater mission had failed. The mission Harry had been coming to prevent. Wasn't he trying to stop Draco from—?

Wait, _Draco_!

Harry's eyes flew open and he looked around frantically, ignoring the sharp pains in his head. "Draco!" He called. "How's Draco?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Don't worry about Mr. Malfoy, he's not suffering anymore. I can assure you, he's doing better now."

Harry's heart felt heavy when he heard those words. He closed his eyes again and leaned back, bright, dancing spots filling his vision as a result from the pain. "I'm glad he's better now," he murmured.

"Yes. Well, I believe my visiting time is over, for now. I'll leave you to rest," Dumbledore said. Harry heard him shuffle out of the room, leaving him all alone in his thoughts. For the next few hours, he kept his eyes shut and didn't speak, even when Madame Pomfrey rushed in and out, feeding him vile medicine and fretting over him as much as possible. Even when his friends came in to comfort him and catch him up on the latest news.

It was pitch-black nighttime when Harry finally opened his eyes again. He stared at the ceiling, wishing he could look up at the stars and pretend he could see the entire universe and its contents, wishing he could gaze into the faces of his loved ones and tell them he was sorry they were up there and he was not. He thought of Draco's scrunched up features, twisted with regret and grief and pain as he said his final words to Harry. And then he imagined Draco's beautifully pale face, devoid of that terrible expression, lying still and serene on the floor of the Astronomy Tower. And Harry decided that he really was glad that Draco wasn't suffering anymore. His life had been a struggle. And now it wasn't. But even the knowledge that Draco was better didn't fill that dreadfully empty void in his heart. "I wish I could've saved you," he whispered out into the darkness to nobody in particular. "But I don't want to hurt you by wishing that. I want you to be happy_. I_ want to be happy. So even though I never had you, I'll let you go."

"As pleased as I am to hear that you want me to be happy, you're not getting off the hook that easily, Potter."

Harry jerked up in surprise at the familiar voice. He sat up eagerly, peering around in the darkness to find the source. "Draco? Draco! Is that you?"

"Of course it is, you prat. Do you think it was Snape sitting here listening to you ramble?" Harry heard the voice, but he couldn't find where it was coming from. Was this all in his head? Was he deluding himself into thinking he was hearing Draco's voice as a result of his bottled grief? "Oh please. I know you're thinking that you're going crazy, but I assure you, I'm here." Harry jumped a little as a sudden light came from the tip of a wand by the seats next to his bed. And the owner at the other end of the wand had blonde hair, grey eyes, and a smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Draco!" Harry practically leaped out of bed and clung to the other boy's arm, bringing him down onto the bed with him. "You're alive! But how?"

Draco straightened himself out and sat down on the bed next to him, letting Harry clutch his hand tightly. "I was never dead," he replied casually.

"Huh?" Harry tugged a little, urging him to come closer. He tightened his grip on Draco's arm, not wanting to let go in case he disappeared altogether again.

"I never said the curse."

"...but I heard you. You said it."

Draco shook his head. "No, that wasn't me. I was about to do it, but then I heard somebody else yell it—I think it was Snape—and I looked over and Bellatrix was on the ground, and mass chaos was going on around me as the others started ganging up on him. You were just lying there with your eyes squeezed shut and I was about to grab you and get us both out of there, but I got caught in the crossfire and hit with some hex. Pomfrey said it was a twisted but unsuccessful form of the killing curse, so I was out cold for a couple of days before anyone figured out I wasn't actually dead. I think Snape knew though, because he prevented them from turning me to ashes before I came around. He was probably the one who hit me with it, the awful bastard. Anyway, I've been up for a while now. But you really had me worried here, being all unconscious for a week now! I mean, here I was, coming back from the dead, and you didn't even have the sense to be awake for it! I was a bit offended, to be honest."

Harry gaped at him in awe, amazed by the surprising turn of events and how easily Draco spoke of them. All this time he was grieving over a boy who hadn't actually died in the first place! And Snape! Harry would get back at the conniving professor for putting him in the hospital wing with some questionable spell, and not telling him that Draco wasn't dead. But he would save that for later, because as of right now, he had some explaining to do. "About the things I said that night—" Harry began.

"No, let me," Draco interrupted. "I meant every word and every action. I would've kill myself for you, Harry."

Harry felt his eyes well up with tears, but this time of happiness. "Really? But I would rather you'd think to kill me than yourself."

Harry saw Draco bite his lip at that and smile sadly. "You know that I would never do that."

"But what if I told you that if you really loved me, you would do it. For me."

Draco shook his head. "No. But we will never have to go through that again, love, I promise."

Harry sat back and observed Draco quietly. How his white-blonde hair just barely swept across his fine eyebrows. How his fair skin looked against the blackness of the room, his grey eyes bright with emotion. The way his thin, pink lips curved up just so in a small smile. And Harry couldn't remember why it was he hadn't realized that he loved this boy from the very beginning. "I love you, Draco," he said softly.

Draco smiled and leaned forward, pushing his dark tousled bangs out of his eyes. Then he pressed his lips to Harry's, gently, chastely. Harry tried to deepen the kiss, but Draco stopped him by pulling back. "I love you too, Harry. I promise I'll never let anything happen to you. Ever again."

Harry shot him a sly smile. "You do know that by saying that you'll have to face Voldemort to defend me."

"I'd battle a thousand Voldemorts if it means you'd be safe."

"I'll never let you."

"When has that ever stopped me?" Draco argued stubbornly.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back with a sigh. "It's truly a mystery why ever I disliked you," he commented with just a hint of sarcasm.

Draco leaned back with him, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist protectively. "Because I was quite the charmer, of course," he laughed and squeezed him a little. "I'm surprised we even made it this far."

Harry turned to look into his eyes. "But we have. And we've got a war to fight, now that you're officially in the Light side's good graces. Considering you've rescued me and didn't kill Dumbledore, and all."

Draco sighed. "Save one Boy-Who-Lived and a barmy but brilliant old wizard and suddenly I'm the pride of the pure," he remarked.

Harry grinned. "I suppose so." He sobered a little and bit his lip. "Are you ready, though, really? We've got a long way to go from here."

Draco nodded and took his hands. "I'll be ready for every bit of it if I'm with you," he declared.

Harry smiled and leaned forward again, capturing Draco's lips in his. He'd be content to stay in this moment, just him and Draco, forever and ever. But Harry had to go out and fight this war, if only to keep it. To make sure that his future was filled with moments like these instead of horror and fear. Because he would have this in his future. He would have Draco forever, safe and happy. He would make sure of it. He closed his eyes and leaned into Draco's touch, drifting off into a comfortable sleep with thoughts of a bright and Voldemort-less future ahead of him. A future with Draco.

And to think none of this would have happened if he had fought with Draco instead of comforting him that day in the bathroom.

**Author's Note: And that's a wrap! Love you guys to pieces for sticking with me this whole time and dealing with all my dramatics and craziness! Thanks for reading and I really hope you enjoyed it :) xoxo**


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